Out at Night
by mad-eye-moodee
Summary: This wasn't what Harry, head of the Auror Behavioral Analysis Unit (ABAU) and his team had in mind for returning to Hogwarts again.
1. Chapter 1

Blaring red numbers from his nightstand told him it was only 2:30. With a groan Harry rolled over to pick up the phone whose roaring had ripped him out of his sleep.

"Potter here." Harry grumbled."

"Harry, it's me," came the apologetic voice of Hermione. Of course- she was the only one who would bother with a phone call. "I've gotten an urgent owl from Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Harry repeated, confused, and a bit alarmed. "What happened?"

There was a silence on the other end of the line. Harry tried to remain patient- it wasn't commonly Hermione's job to deliver cases- she wasn't technically a profiler, more of a technical analyst (most wizards were rubbish at it.)

"Harry… they found another student." Harry sat up, stunned. Wordlessly and with his eyes glued to the wall ahead, he reached an arm over to nudge Ginny awake. After a momentary grumble Ginny too was alert- it wasn't the first time he'd woken her up for a case. Harry put Hermione on speaker while the two of them got dressed.

"Hey Hermione," Ginny greeted her.

"Hi, Ginny."

"What've ya got?" Ginny asked grimly as she pulled on some work pants.

"Some students were out serving detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest and came across the body of a fourth year." Harry, who was in the bathroom washing his face, leaned over the sink. Ginny, too, froze, hands on her hips as she stood looking at the floor.

"Shit, Hermione…" came Ginny's eventual reply.

"I know. And that's the third in five months. I'll get Ron up and see you two in Hogsmeade, then."

"Sure." Ginny replied. "I'll get ahold of George-"

"And I'll get Creevey." Harry said. A moment later, Hermione was gone.

Once they reached Hogsmeade, it was a bit laborious getting to the Forest, not made particularly easier by George's taunts to his younger brother about entering "the cweepy cwawly fowest." Hermione, not officially an auror, prepared their press statement and talked to various professors about what could be done to ease the student's minds. Ginny talked to Hagrid and the children who'd found the girl, three fifth year Ravenclaws. Meanwhile, Harry, Ron, George, and Dennis Creevey overlooked the scene. The body had been left a hundered yards or so beyond the initial wall of trees. It was gruesome- she was covered in vines that seemed to be choking her.

"Incarcerous Spell." Dennis said grimly.

" _Relashio!"_ Ron muttered. The vines loosened their grip and fell away from her body.

"Just like the other murders." George said. Harry looked over her.

"She has a significant number of bruises and scrapes, though, most likely not caused by the curse." Harry noted.

"It's unlikely he purposefully used any other measure to kill her, though."

"What's your reasoning, George?" Harry inquired.

"All their victims have been killed with that curse alone. His fascination with this particular curse tells us he doesn't plan to use something else." He said. "It is odd, however, that he continues to leave them in the Forest. Haven't they shut it down to students?"

"Yes, but this one's closer to the boundary than last time- Probable that they're pushing their limits, seeing how far they can go." Dennis said.

"And it's important to them, this killing." George added. "This is a personal crusade. Something they don't want to bring out into the open, but are certain must continue. They're willing to risk getting caught to continue hiding the bodies here."

It was true: a spell had been cast around the majority of the perimeter to identify anyone passing the boundary.

"I'll contact Mcgonagall- perhaps the spell alerts her right away who passed the line, and she can tell us who to go after." Harry offered. George frowned in return.

"You can try, but it would waste your time. They're sure to know about the spell, they must have found a secret way to get into the Forest- a loophole around the spell."

"With one of McGonagall's spells? Are you mad?" Ron exclaimed. "There's no way."

"Maybe not." George shrugged. "But her body got here somehow."

"What's her name?" Harry asked. It made him uneasy talking about her as just another body.

"Harper Yolt," Dennis replied. "Ravenclaw fourth year, Half Blood-"

"Hold on," Ron interjected. "Weren't the other two- er, Renee Faulkner and Max Trentworth- weren't they halfbloods too?" Dennis flipped up some papers on his clipboard, brown eyes scanning them for confirmation.

"Yes, that's right." His eyes squinted. "And it seems… well, it seems each had at least one parent who was a Squib." Dennis looked up into their faces, shocked.

"Well, it looks like we know who their targets are." Harry said firmly.

"I'll get a list of the halfblood students with registered squib parents." Ron said.

"Wait." Harry interjected. "Why not purebloods too?" Ron frowned.

"It's not common for wizards and witches to marry squibs, Harry. They're, er, not held in the greatest light."

"Yeah," George chimed in. "Mum's got some second cousin or whatever who's a squib, and she never talks about him. Kinda a disgrace to the family, he is." He grinned. "But maybe Ron's taken his place, who knows?" His comment was received with a blow from Ron over the head.

"Well, go ahead and run the check with purebloods, too, Ron, just in case, and while you're with her, talk to McGonagall." Ron nodded and headed out towards the castle. Harry sighed, and cast a Levitating Charm. "I'll take her body to the morgue over at St. Mungo's. George-"

"Yeah, I know. I'll get some rest, Harry. I'll be fine." George said tiredly. Harry looked hesitant to leave him, but nodded, and began trudging through the forest.


	2. Chapter 2

"The students couldn't tell me much." Ginny told Harry as the two of them and Hermione waited outside the Morgue. Harry nodded.

"I expected as much." He said quietly. He ran a hand through his hair.

"What's curious, though," Hermione noted, "is the spell itself. The method. I mean, this definitely seems to be a student doing the killing, but this is N.E.W.T. level stuff, Harry."

"So it has to be an older student." Harry finished her thought.

"Or we have another oddly skilled young wizard on our hands."

"That's not altogether impossible." Harry said, shrugging.

"Yes, but we can't all be Chosen Ones, can we." Ginny said. He smiled in spite of the context. They all needed a laugh every once in a while, and he knew she was just trying to keep his spirits up given the kind of case this was.

"I suppose I just got lucky, then." Harry chuckled. Hermione and Ginny laughed, too, but a moment later they were both quiet again. That's how most of their time during cases were spent, and this one was only worse than normal. It was as if there was an elephant in the room everyone was desperately trying not think about while it sprayed water in their faces.

Just then the Healer came out of the room. The three stood up, looking at her expectantly.

"She has several large bruises and scrapes lined with bark fibers that don't match the vines recovered from the curse." Hermione frowned, puzzled. "They do seem, however, to be consistent with the samples taken from the surrounding trees in the Forest."

"Maybe she put up a fight, tried to defend herself, and stumbled into some branches?" Ginny offered.

"No, I believe that's unlikely.' The Healer replied. "The marks- bruises and scrapes- seem to have been made… after the time of death. After the curse. There are no scrapes or bruises underneath those implemented by the vines. Whatever caused the bruises and scrapes from the tree bark, it was after the curse was cast."

Harry's brow furrowed. Something didn't connect. And he was going to find out what it was.

Back at Hogsmeade, Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Dennis, and George sat around one of Madam Rosemerta's tables at the Three Broomsticks, each with a butterbeer in hand. They were going over theories, evidence, bits of a profile for their killer, and plans for how to advise the school to proceed.

"Look, beyond being a pureblood there's not much more we know about our killer." Ginny was saying.

"We don't even know if they are purebood, Gin."

"Well it's the most likely!"

"Likely doesn't cut it. We need something concrete." George argued. Harry, not really listening, instead noticed Ron nudging Hermione, who was protesting against whatever Ron had in mind. Ron, however, ignored her.

"Hermione had an idea about a lead, actually." He said enthusiastically, looking over at Hermione, who was blushing shyly and looked a bit miffed at Ron for ignoring her request not to say anything.

"Well, I- it's not much really, but I kept thinking about the spell. Like I was telling Harry and Ginny, it's N.E.W.T. level, so they're porbably older- likely in their last year," Hermione said, gaining confidence as she talked. "And even then, it's not even on the exam, so no teacher would likely be teaching it, and information about it is in the restricted section." She paused to see if everyone was still listening. "So, really, I think that maybe our best bet would be to check with Alicia Spinnet to see if she has any tutors or pupils that have come to her for extra help."

Ron was grinning madly, looking around the table as if saying _Isn't she bloody_ _ **brilliant**_? Harry and George were nodding, impressed. Ron frowned then.

"Wait a minute." He said. "Alicia who?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Alicia Spinnet? Gryffindor? One of my friends? God, Ron, she was in Dumbledore's Army!" Ron flushed sheepishly. "She's the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor now!" Harry fought to hide a smile as Ron turned a dark shade of pink.

"Spinnet?" George piped up, smiling.

"Brilliant Chaser, she was." Ginny said with a grin. "Alright it's settled- George and I'll go talk to her then." She said. "Hermione and Dennis, see if you can find some registers of who's been to the library- possibly the restricted section."

"Honestly, why do they even keep a Restricted Section?" Ron asked in exasperation.

"Maybe because we all would have died about half a dozen times without it." Harry answered, grinning. "C'mon, mate, I guess I'll come with you to see McGonagall."

A line of students poured past George and Ginny, who were waiting outside Spinnet's classroom. At last Alicia came to the door, smiling sadly.

"S'pose I should've known I'd see one of you around here eventually." Alicia said, sighing deeply. She held the door open for her old teammates and waved them in. The classroom was decorated with several banners and tapestries, and windchimes dangled from the ceiling. The windows were open slightly, letting the spring breeze in and adding a refreshing touch to the sudden intoxicating atmosphere.

"There was another one last night, Alicia." Ginny said softly.

"I know, the whole school's buzzing about it." Alicia replied, looking tired. She was only two years older than Ginny, but she looked like she'd aged incredibly. "I had to send a student out of class because he wouldn't shut up about it. He was scaring the whole class." George and Ginny frowned apologetically.

"Alicia," Ginny began. "We think there may be something you can do to help us." Spinnet blinked.

"Me? I mean, of course, I will, but… how in the bloody hell…?"

"Al, are there any students who come to you for personal help? Tutoring? Advice?" George asked softly.

"Yeah, I offer tutoring, there's a small group of students I see on vaious days of the week, why-"

"Are any of them older students?" Ginny interjected. "Studying higher-level material, perhaps?" Alicia turned pale, and looked like she was about to be sick.

"Merlin, you don't think one of them-?" She stared up into their faces, eyes wide in horror.

"The spell is…advanced. Beyond what you'd teach in the classroom. And difficult- very few people can perform it successfully at this age." Ginny said, remaining calm.

"What spell?" Alicia said demandingly. It was obvious panic and guilt were overwhelming her at the thought of being the one to teach such a horrid thing to a murderer. She'd been the DADA Professor for five years now, starting three years after the Battle of Hogwarts, when the school had reopened. It was in her blood to be concerned for her students- in her very nature, and the thought she'd put them in danger was threatening to envelop her completely.

"Incarcerous," George said lowly. "Have you taught any of your students that spell?" he asked, not wanting to give her time to panic further.

"Y-yes." Alicia said, hands trembling. "To several students- but only seventh years. That spell- among others. Only to students who had advanced beyond the class material. I only wanted to continue teaching them outside of class to make sure those talents didn't go to waste, to keep them sharp for exams, to challenge them, I never- Merlin I never imagined one of them would go and do something so _horrible_!" Spinnet began to cry. Ginny and George exchanged a look.

"Al," George rubbed her back softly, trying to soothe her. "We need those names."

"Got the list of students. Nothing else of much use from McGonagall." Harry reported later, seated along the bar in the Hog's Head.

"Exc'ptf some gra' biscuths" Ron said from beside him, his mouth stuffed with some kind of pudding. Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation.

"You know, just because we're back at school doesn't mean you have to all of a sudden be fifteen again, Ronald." Ron only smiled and leaned left to kiss her forehead, making Hermione blush profusely. She stammered quickly in an effort to change the subject. "We, uh, we didn't find anything in the library, and trace spells revealed no one's been to the restricted section since last September."

"September?" Ginny chimed in. "What was that?"

"Nothing for us to be concerned about. It's said to be common for first years to get dared to go read it."

"What book?" Harry asked.

" _Fillidust's Firey Frandels._ " Dennis said with a smirk.

"What the hell's that?" Ron blurted out, finally finished with his bite. George wiggled his eyebrows and leaned in.

"It's like the wizard's Kama Sutra, if you catch my drift." He said, grinning wickedly. "Fascinating read, Granger." He added with a wink. Ron started to protest.

" _I've_ never read it." She said cooly.

" _I_ have." George said with another wink. Ron's hand curled into a fist. In an effort to stop a bar brawl before it began, Ginny interrupted, yet smiling slightly at George's comment. It was always good to see him joking again.

" _George_ and I, _however_ , found quite a promising lead." She said loudly, nudging Ron beside to her to stop looking at George's wishing-to-be-broken nose. "I'll let George give the rest of you an idea of what we've summarized as a profile."

George shifted in his seat.

"We're looking for a boy, not quite 17 years old, likely raised by purebloods. He's compensating for his inability to be out in the world by bringing his desire for destruction and, in his eyes-justice- by beginning his string of murders here at Hogwarts. Killing on Hogwarts grounds is also important to him because he has a fascination with Snippet- a borderline obsession- and uses the spell she's taught him as a way to subtly impress her with his abilities- as a way to demonstrate his power and how he can protect her; much like a cat bringing its owner a dead mouse. His victims are descendants of Squibs because he looks down on Squibs and considers them less than Muggles, a disgrace and disappointment to wizards and wizard families, and kills their children on Hogwarts grounds as a statement to Squibs that they and their children do not amount to the potential of the other students, and thus do not belong at Hogwarts or in the wizard world."

He paused to take a sip of his tea.

"He's likely to have a Squib in the family, most probably a younger sibling, as this is a personal crusade. He's likely to share his feelings toward Squibs with those closest to him, but he's a private bloke for the most part. He feels a sense of urgency, and at the slightest indication that Alicia's upset, he'll have resolved to commit another murder in a mad attempt to soothe her worries. Alicia doesn't see the seventh year class until tomorrow morning, however he's likely to keep an eye at her at dinner, so his plan is most probably already set in motion. This," George brought a photograph out onto the bar, "Is Darren Halbrough. He's the one we want."

The picture was of a seventh year boy, tall, blue eyed, and with light brown hair. He wore his hair short, slightly spiked at the front, and a tie around his collar with the colors blue and bronze. Dennis picked up where George had left off.

"Darren Halbrough: grew up in a Pureblood family, sees Spinnet three times a week for advanced lessons, has mastered the Incarcerous Curse as well as others, often enquires about Spinnet's personal life. He's private, not generally popular, ahead in most classes and often elects to skip those that aren't Alicia Spinnet's." He looked up from his clipboard. "And he used to have a Squib sister."

"Used to?" Harry asked, still looking at the photograph.

"She died, fourteen years old. He was seven. Report says she died in the bathtub, her mother heard her cry for her and went to the bathroom and found-"

"Her son, Darren." Ron spat, a look of disgust and intense anger across his face. Dennis nodded grimly.

"Yes, and when she couldn't find him she returned to the tub to find him beside it. As advanced as this boy seems to be, it wouldn't surprise me if this was a case of accidental magic, used for his purposes. He knew she'd never do magic, so he killed her. He may not have known exactly what he was doing, but I'd bet a million galleons he wanted it to happen, and he let it." Dennis stopped and took a swig of his butterbeer. Quiet overcame the group, who were stunned, but whose minds were racing.

"Do we know who he'll go for next?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

"No," Ginny responded. "But we'll keep an eye on him, track his every move, using Polyjuice potion and the like. And now we have list of potential victims." The other five nodded in accord. Silence crept in amongst them, but each of them shared the same thought, and it was plain on their faces:

Starting tonight, there would be no more killing at Hogwarts.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

The map painted Halbrough's footsteps as he crept down the Ravenclaw Tower staircase. Harry scowled. Would his fellow Ravenclaws ever know they slept amongst a murderer? Shared a table with him? Studied with him? That he was currently sneaking out after hours to kill a student? That last night he killed one of their own?

It seemed Halbrough would be going on a long walk toward his destination- victim, Harry reminded himself. Ginny and the others were already in place, at the forest, the exits. He watched at Ginny's footsteps subtly followed Darren's at a distance from under the Invisibility Cloak. He sighed, resting his head against the stone pillar in the dark courtyard. It was insane, the whole thing. He only hoped George was right about this. He felt horrible, doubting him, but he'd not been himself ever since… It was difficult for Harry not to take his judgements with a grain of salt. How many of them were skewed by trauma, after all?

Then again, Harry thought, which one of them weren't going through trauma? They'd all lost someone in the war- as well as a part of themselves. It wasn't easy for any of them to be here, but if they could do it, George could too. Harry sighed again and looked down at the map.

Gotcha.

Halbrough stood in the Charms room, with one other student- Peter Dinklage. Harry scanned McGonagall's list. Yup, Dinklage had a Squib father. This was it.

 _We've got him. Charms classroom, with a boy named Peter Dinklage_. Harry told his team by Illigimency. Harry had finally learned the skill per Hermione's persistent request. Harry's eyes crossed the parchment once more. _Third year. Hufflepuff. Be careful, guys. We've got one shot at this._ He could almost hear the rest of them nodding in agreement.

 _Be safe_ , came Hermione's message. Harry resisted the urge either to smile or roll his eyes- not knowing which urge was stronger. Time to move. Harry glanced down at the map as he changed positions. George and Dennis were closing in on the Charms room at a run, and Ginny was waiting outside the classroom on a separate corridor of the third floor. Harry took a deep breath, and waited.

"Give me your wand, Peter." Darren said calmly, though Peter could see a slight tremor in his hands. Something was wrong.

"I'll- I'll need it won't I?" He said in a small voice. "To practice the spell? Like you said?" But even as he said it, he knew that wasn't what the seventh year had had in mind. Fear threatened to take over as Darren's look became one of cold and stern impatience.

"I said, give it to me, Peter." His voice was low like a growl.

"No!" Peter protested, keeping his wand clutched tightly by his side. His expression darkened, trying to make him appear tougher and stronger right now than he really was. He didn't know what was going on, or if he could keep it from escalating into a fight, but he needed to be strong right now. That much young Peter Dinklage knew.

"Give it to me, Peter! I have ways of _making_ you give it to me, you know." Darren said darkly from within the classroom. George and Dennis paused from outside the large wooden doors. Dennis cursed. If Darren had only chosen someone older… there wouldn't be so much at stake right now. They had to wait until something was revealed that would give Darren away as the killer, enough to use as a prosecution. If they barged in now, he'd get away. They all hated it, but they knew there was no other way.

"Do it, then." Peter snarled. He was brave, Dennis mused. And passionate. But ultimately Peter must know he couldn't hold his own against him. George caught Dennis's eye and nodded towards the door. They were ready. It was coming.

Inside, Darren laughed cruelly, a hollow, malicious sound echoing within the wooden walls.

"With pleasure." There was a brief silence. " _Expelliarmus_!" Darren exclaimed. Dennis moved slightly, impatient to burst inside, unwilling to allow what would come next, but George wisely held him back. There was a _clap!_ of wand against tile, a slight gasp, and- " _INCARCEROUS_!" Darren yelled.

Half a second later George and Dennis burst inside, wands at the ready.

" _Expelliarmus_!" George shouted, disarming Darren, who was momentarily lost but quickly recovered, grabbing Peter's wand.

"Relashio!" Dennis exclaimed towards Dennis, freeing him of the vines quickly curling their way towards his throat.

 _"Stupefy_!" Halbrough cried, and Dennis was blasted backward. George scowled as Darren ran past him through the now-open doorway and around the corner. Before he could reach the doorway himself Dennis was already on his feet again, approaching Peter and attempting to comfort him.

"Everything'll be alright, Peter, okay? I promi—George, _go_ , I'll look after him- **_GO_** _!"_ George looked from the boy to Dennis, and sprang out of the doors in pursuit. Darren was a fast runner, but George kept pace well.

" _Petrificus Totalus!"_ George yelled. His spell was deflected, and a burst of red flew at him from ahead, which he dodged. _He's heading for the middle courtyard_ , George told the team.

 _We'll be there, George_ , Harry's voice echoed in his mind in response. George grit his teeth and pushed harder towards the robes whirling down the corridor in front of him. He turned a corner, George close behind, and he was suddenly knocked off his feet into a nearby room, one he recognized as a Transfiguration classroom. Darren stormed towards him, wand at his side, his face clouded with hatred and sheer aggression. George clambered to his feet, Darren raising his wand to George's throat as he did. George brought his hand up in surrender, keeping his wand in hand.

"Not so much a war hero as the great Potter is, are you Weasley?" Darren sneered. George laughed easily.

"You're thicker than I thought!" George said with a grin. Darren frowned, angered and confused. "We're not in a _war_ , mate. And I'm not competing with Harry, he's my friend." George slowly lowered his wandless hand as if to inspect his fingernails. "…He's here, in fact." He said matter-of-factly, now making pointed, solemn eye contact with him. The boy gulped before regaining his composure.

"It's no matter to me. You'll be dead before the night is over."

"Oh will I!?" George said with another laugh.

"Oh yes. Can't have you getting in my way." Darren said. He sighed dramatically.

"Though I do wonder… if your brother Freddie could've done better." A cruel smile cut across his lips.

George felt a surge of rage and sorrow rip through him. He debated between taking a moment to steady himself and let the twerp have the satisfaction of seeing his comment hit home, or try to remain composed.

"What's this really about, Darren, all this overcompensating? I get that you're young and you wanna prove yourself, but to who? Is there someone else out there? Someone in charge?"

"Oh, come off it, I wouldn't tell you if there was, you know th-"

"That's fair...alright… so what is it then?" George continued, searching for the right button to press to set him off. "D'you have trouble getting it up, mate?" Darren scowled darkly. Wasn't quite the right button, but it was one. "Get off in your pants too often to get it up for a girl, eh?"

Darren's eyes flashed dangerously. "No…This is just about playing god, isn't it. Deciding who is and isn't worthy of the next breath."

"Oh, save me the speech." Darren snorted.

"Did she get too much attention from mum and dad, Darren?" George taunted, his voice steady again. Darren was getting on edge. "Your sister? Did she not spend enough time with her psychotic baby brother?"

"I'm _NOT_ a psychotic!" Darren screamed. " _I_ was perfect! _She_ was the one who was a- she was a _freak_!."

"Yeah, but she was the one drowned in the bathtub, wasn't she." George retorted bitterly. Darren's snarl curled into a derisive sneer. George smiled deviously.

"I bet you don't have a problem getting it up in _Spinnet's_ class, eh?" George said in another taunting voice. Darren drew in a sharp breath, his eyes flashing- he was dangerously close to breaking point, if George could just tip him over the edge…

"Leave her class with wank stains in your pants, Darren?" George said in a low voice. He sneered just before Darren exploded. That was it. The shame and the hatred, the desperation for Spinnet to return his feelings, they all burst forth in a wave of anger surging towards him, but George was ready. He'd make a mistake.

" _AVADA KEDAVRA_!" Darren roared. With an effortless wave of his wand, George threw the green stream of light to the side, stepping slowly and deliberately towards him.

"You didn't even bother to disarm me, Halbrough!" George laughed. "You sure you're quite so smart as you want Spinnet to think?"

" _Flagrate_!" Darren cried. George laughed again and dodged the fire branding spell. Darren turned, wide-eyed, and dashed out of the room. George followed, cornering him once more in the courtyard. Without knowing to look for them, you'd never see the dark outlines of Harry and Ginny alongside the borders of the enclosure. George grinned, and Darren was sweating now, obviously feeling now as cornered as he was.

"Ex- _Expelliarmus_!" Darren cried out, and George let his wand slip out of his fingers. He'd gotten pretty good at wandless magic, if it was needed, but with Harry and Ginny there, all he had to do now was provoke him.

"There you go, Halbrough." George beckoned him forward. "Now you're getting the hang of it." Darren's face twisted in anger. "Too bad you won't be able to see Spinnet again from Azkaban, though I doubt she'd be impressed."

Darren roared in fury and indignation.

" _INCARCEROUS_!"

Suddenly a dozen vines or so were latching their way around George's arms and legs, buckling them and forcing him to fall to the ground. One particularly persistent vine found its way to his neck and began choking him.

" _Relashio_!" Ginny suddenly cried, and a moment later the vines had broken their grip.

" _Silencio_!" Harry shouted, and Darren's next curse was stopped at the tip of his tongue. " _Petrificus Totalus_!"

Darren stood straight as a board and fell forward, frozen. George, still lying on the ground, laughed hard. Harry and Ginny looked down at the pitiful seventh year and began chuckling as well. The voice of Hermione, who'd obviously been using Occlumency to keep an eye on what was going on, echoed in their minds.

 _What. An. Idiot_.

The following day, George remained at Hogwarts. Harry and Ginny had brought Darren Halbrough into custody, where he would be brought into court soon and sentenced to life in Azkaban. Dennis had brought the boy to the hospital wing to check for any injuries, but Peter had been released and was now spending the weekend with his parents. Hermione was handling the press and relentlessly advising McGonagall on how to do her job. "I know how to take care of my students," Minerva had said a bit crossly, but Hermione, as always, had another ten ideas of how to improve the safety of the castle, and was ultimately sent home to get some rest. George had decided he too needed a day's rest. Being back here, at Hogwarts… It was all so much to handle; it was terrifying, and exhilarating. It was beautiful and horrible all at once. So George had decided on a day off. He smiled at Ol' Minnie at dinner from the Gryffindor table, where he sat surrounded by fascinated students telling stories of famous pranks and secret passageways. Even children from other houses had come to sit at the Gryffindor table, eager to listen.

"Well, we'd almost gotten the candles back on when _Filch_ came around the corner!" George was saying. Small gasps erupted around him. "We would've gotten caught too, until Fred-"

"Pulled out one of our portable Swamps!" Finished the red-haired ghost sitting beside him smugly. The children laughed, and the two boys sitting on the table were beaming.

"Filch wasn't too pleased with that mess, and nor were we when we had detention later because of the chalk pick pranks and had to clean it up-"

"But we got away, didn't we, George!" The younger boy said indignantly, with an easy, brilliant smile on his face.

"Yes, Fred." George beamed back at him, truly happy for the first time since the War, seeing his brother smile again. "We did."


End file.
